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Originally released in 1980. Remastered in 2002. Peter Gabriel's third eponymous album finds him crafting work that's artier, stronger, more song oriented than before. Consider its ominous opener, the controlled menace of "Intruder." He's never found such a scary sound, yet it's a sexy scare, one that is undeniably alluring, and he keeps this going throughout the record. For an album so popular, it's remarkably bleak, chilly, and dark, even radio favorites like "I Don't Remember" and "Games Without Frontiers" are hardly cheerful, spiked with paranoia and suspicion, insulated in introspection. For the first time, Gabriel has found the sound to match his themes, plus the songs to articulate his themes. Each aspect of the album works, feeding off each other, creating a romantically gloomy, appealingly arty masterpiece. It's the kind of record where you remember the details in the production as much as the hooks or the songs, which isn't to say that it's all surface, it's just that the surface means as much as the songs, since it articulates the emotions as well as Gabriel's cubist lyrics and impassioned voice. He wound up having albums that sold more, or generated bigger hits, but this third Peter Gabriel album remains a masterpiece.

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Yes, I would have loved 5.1 releases of all the Peter Gabriel recordings. Just listen to the "Up" SACD or the 5.1 DTS tracks on the "Play" DVD for a jaw dropping showcase of Gabriel's music in surround. For whatever reason, however, most of his catalog was re-mastered in stereo and that is what we're stuck with. "Melt" is my fave Gabriel release -- although his next three albums are very close to my heart.

I have the first U.S. vinyl pressing, and both the original and remastered CD discs. I've listened to this album many, many times and know its sounds intimately. The clarity of this high resolution release is stunning. None of the earlier releases can compare to the SACD remaster, which simply sparkles. The highs are crystalline, the mid-range more detailed and "in-the-room" than I have ever heard, and the bass is solid but not overpowering. And very importantly, there is no hint of the compressed, over-loud audio that is present on the CD remasters. If you can find the Gabriel SACD titles at a halfway reasonable price (hard to do right now, unfortunately), do yourself a favor and grab 'em.

The initial untitled albums were an expansion on Peter's post-modernism conveyed in The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. However understanding that he wanted to explore different directions he left Genesis to built a reputation on his own. His goal to explore new musical territories is somehow reached in this album where not only does he come into his own element he shows us how versatile he is. From social advocacy in Biko where he starts to incorporate World Music influence for the first time. Much of the hard rock influence in his earlier solo albums seems to reach more depth and pessimism but in a truly sincere and genuine way. Intruder, No Self Control, and Not One of Us deal with identity issues and sense of wanting to materialize into something else and somehow has a correlation to Peter trying to find himself and finally coming into his own.

The album is quite eclectic borrowing from new wave, world music, hard rock which was established in previous albums. The atmosphere is to die for, and he takes on multiple persona's to a much greater effect than when he was dressing up in Genesis performances. Again this album is all the proof you need to show that Peter needed to leave Genesis to artistically grow into this. Which benefited Genesis because they became more lucrative under Phil Collins that however doesn't mean they were as artistically inclined as this album.

Of Peter's 7 solo studio cds it is difficult to pick just one that displays his numerous strengths. His third album does just that. Musically and lyrically this cd is as powerful as The Police's Synchronicity. There's nothing excessive on this 40 minute disc and compared to Security, So, and Us it is a very dark and haunting psychological cd. From the opening psychopathic "Intruder" to the heartbreaking dysfunctional boy from a dysfunctional family turned into president killer story of "Family Snapshot" to the sweaty-palmed amnestic tale of "I Don't Remember" to the sarcastic anti-war tale of "Games Without Frontiers" to the hearfelt surrealism of complete mental breakdown in "Lead a Normal Life" to the cd closing anti-apartheid story of the murder of Steven Biko in "Biko" this cd is a must have for any serious rock collector. To be fair, Peter's Security, So, Passion, and Us cds are all great too. Each one of them has their own strengths and weaknesses, but I think that his third album is his most original, non-mainstream, haunting and stark work. The cover of the cd showing Peter's melting face is a hint as to what you will find on the recording. However, if you are NOT a Peter Gabriel fan I would recommend starting with his more mainstream So cd. His first two solo cds are mainly for hardcore fans as they are more like his work with early Genesis. Both are experimental as are all of his cds. Buy this disc it's worth the money.

Every track here deserves its place. Gabriel flows from individual neurosis to collective identity, turning out cutting critiques of each. The opening song, "Intruder," could not be more unsettling with its thundering toms, grating harmonies, and lyric - "Intruder's happy in the dark / Intruder come / Intruder come and he leave his mark." It seems fit then to place "Biko" at the end of the album, where electronic production techniques recontextualize African music sources into a haunting tribute to the late anti-apartheid activist.

The production of the album creates a technologically advanced yet primitive world, much like the one in Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner." I get the feeling that the movie's entire soundtrack was based off the instrumental "Start," the only sweet spot on this album. While I can understand criticism of the production as dated, I would argue that its dissonance, distortion, and booming tones are more out of time than anything else. In "I Don't Remember," the abrasive guitar and elastic bass are never quite where they seem, reinforcing the narrator's confusion and paranoia. The off-kilter rhythm and eerie synthesizer on "Games Without Frontiers" underpin an alternating militaristic and carefree sentiment. While it is the most complex work here, I cannot say which is the most memorable. This is Gabriel's masterpiece.